


it's raining

by cjcjc



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, One Shot, drabble thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 12:47:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12507780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjcjc/pseuds/cjcjc
Summary: When it rains in Derry, it rains hard, so Stan really should’ve grabbed an umbrella when he saw grey clouds roll in but he didn’t. Now he’s stuck miserable and wet under a tree that gives him little to nothing shelter.





	it's raining

**Author's Note:**

> rip I told myself to not get sucked in this fandom and I did, enjoy xx

Shivering, sopping wet Stan hunches underneath a large tree as he waits for the rain to ease to no avail. He regrets not taking precaution when he saw grey clouds hovering over the horizon and decided he wasn’t going to be out long anyway. Now he’s miserable and grumpy. His curls stick uncomfortably to his forehead and to the back of his neck.

The rain roars, unapologetically hammering down cold droplets and creating a hiss that resonates in Stan’s ears. He shifts his weight between the balls of his feet and clutches onto his book tighter in hopes it doesn’t get wet. He texted his parents fifteen minutes ago but they’re both at work and it would be a miracle if they wormed their way out of it just to give Stan a ride home. Maybe if he wastes time by naming all the bird names he can recite at the top of his head then the rain will ease by then.

He starts alphabetically, but all he can feel is the back of his shirt clinging onto him and the sporadic breeze that has goosebumps crawling up his arms and neck. He also regrets not taking a jacket out with him and deciding on just wearing a plain polo.

He wants to go home.

He stares at the wall of rain in disdain, he thinks about shoving his book under his shirt and making a run for it. It would still take him a good ten minutes before he would make it home.

Maybe he could call one of his neighbours and fake an illness so they’d pity him enough to offer him a ride.

Stan searches every corner of his brain for _something_ but nothing comes up. He would just have to brave the heavy rain and run straight to the bathroom for a hot bath. As he mentally readies himself for the sheer force of pelting water, a figure emerges from the rain and holds out a bright blue umbrella.

“Tuh-take it.”

Stan cocks a brow and looks up at the stranger. He’s wearing a black raincoat but strands of hair still stick to his forehead right above his striking blue eyes. Wow nearly stumbles out of Stan’s mouth because it feels like he’s going to see his own reflection in this stranger’s clear blue eyes.

“I’m sorry I can’t,” Stan replies gently nudging away the umbrella. “Thank you anyway but I’m waiting for my parents, they’ll be here soon.”

The boy doesn’t believe the lie, Stan is sure he’s a better liar than that. “Y-you’ve been st-st-standing here fo-for t-the last t-tuh-twenty minutes.”

Stan’s face flares up being caught in his lie, but before he can protest and lose the remaining sense of dignity he has, the boy presses the warm wooden umbrella handle into Stan’s hand.

The stranger bolts and Stan loses him in the blur of the rain. Oddly, he feels warmth in his chest by the random act of kindness. Who would’ve thought that there were nice people in Derry?

Uneven ridges dig into his palm, breaking the smooth surface of the wooden handle enough to catch Stan’s attention. He rolls the umbrella in his palm and the word _DENBROUGH_ is revealed. Maybe Stan has a chance to thank the stranger after all.

-

“Do you know anyone called Denbrough?” Stan asks.

Richie and Stan stop by the tree line, the brakes on their bikes squeak as the wheels slowly skid to a halt. “Denbrough…” Richie says slowly trying the name out in his mouth. “Sounds familiar, why?”

Stan shrugs but nothing deters Richie Tozier. His glasses don’t make it hard to miss the way his eyes widen both in curiosity and excitement. “Who’s this Denbrough girl–“

“–boy.” Stan corrects, his mouth working faster than his brain at the same time he decides he needs to spend less time with Richie. The tips of his ears paint pink.

“Boy!” Richie repeats boisterously. “Stanley Uris devote Jew wants to track down a _secular boy_?”

Stan scowls and explains what happened during the rainy day, “I need to return his umbrella.”

“You mean to tell me some stranger approached you and told you to take his umbrella and you didn’t go running the other direction?”

“He was our age Richie.”

“I’ll pull a few strings and see what I can find for you.” He clicks his fingers and winks at Stan.

Two days later Stan is looking down at a child. Richie is standing behind said child with the world’s biggest shit eating grin, his obnoxiously orange Hawaiian printed shirt makes his smile brighter. “Richie this is not what I meant.”

Richie almost looks offended. “His last name’s Denbrough! And he’s a boy, fits all the criteria perfectly.”

The boy looks up at him with big eyes, he doesn’t look afraid and in fact seems almost comfortable around Richie. Stan always found it sort of strange at how well Richie interacted with kids.

“I said he was our age,” Stan reminds him then timidly holds the umbrella out to the young boy. “Is this yours?”

The boy gingerly takes it from his hand and rolls it over so the handle says _DENBROUGH_. “This isn’t mine,” Stan throws a smirk over the boy’s head to Richie. “It’s my big brother’s umbrella, Billy.”

Richie makes a triumphant noise before chortling out a, “Oh hoho!”

“Well, um, can you tell your brother thanks?” Stan asks meekly and the boy nods eagerly.

“G-Georgie!” The boy is yanked away from Stan and Richie. “Wuh-what d-do you th-think you’re d-duh-doing?!”

Stan deciphers it as a threat but the stutter makes it harmless. Denbrough, now presumably _Billy_ , has his hands protectively holding onto his younger brother’s shoulders. He’s as pretty as Stan remembers, even prettier in the sunshine than the rain with his stark blue eyes shining under the light. “I was just returning your umbrella,” Stan explains as Richie scuttles over to stand next to him.

Richie’s grin returns. “You must be Buh-buh-Bill.”

Stan jabs him in the side with a bony elbow. Hard. “Beep beep Richie, go terrorise Eddie or something.” Richie sighs dramatically and clutches his side before cycling away. “I’m sorry about that, he doesn’t think before he speaks but I promise we weren’t hurting your brother.”

Bill doesn’t seem convinced, he kneels down to meet Georgie’s eyes. “Did they h-hurt you?”

Georgie earnestly shakes his head in response. “Bird boy was just giving back your umbrella Billy!”

Bill turns red and before he can splutter out an explanation, Stan exclaims: “Bird boy?!” He manages to sound both amused and afraid.

“Uh, uh, I-I can expuh-puh-plain!”

After fifteen minutes of convincing Stan that Bill is not a stalker and in fact only lives near the field that Stan likes to bird watch from. Bill always saw Stan walk past his house regularly and became curious (Georgie decided to become invested in this as well), so it was declared that Stan was nicknamed ‘bird boy’.

Stan scuffs his shoe against the pavement.he tries not to stare too hard at the dirty mark gleaming against his white shoe. “Well, um, I just wanted to say thanks for the umbrella, you saved me from torrential rain and impending illness.”

Bill laughs. “I g-guess I’ll see you around, buh-buh-bird buh-boy.”

“Uh, it’s Stan, short for Stanley.”

Bill wraps an arm around Georgie’s small shoulders. “I’ll see you around Stanley.” He says slowly so he doesn’t stutter and walks into the direction of his house.

“I sure hope I do,” Stan mutters under his breath as he watches Bill and Georgie’s figures retreat.

 


End file.
